


Ghosts

by Jamjar88



Category: Red Hot Chili Peppers (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamjar88/pseuds/Jamjar88
Summary: A request on Tumblr :)This is set during the making of BSSM in 1991, at the haunted mansion in Laurel Canyon.
Relationships: John Frusciante/Reader
Kudos: 5





	Ghosts

It’s too hot to sleep. Pushing 83 even after midnight. You’re lying side by side on the blankets you pulled onto the floor, heads just touching. The tower fan is spinning quietly, driving cooler air onto your bare skin. He’s quiet. You don’t know any more if he’s asleep or awake.

The mansion’s silent, except for the ghosts. Chad still won’t spend the night here.

“John?”

“Mm?”

“You hear them?”

You hear the faintest laugh next to you, you know he’s smiling.

“Just her.”

You turn onto your side to look at him. In the dark, he’s lit by the bright moon coming in through the open windows and balcony doors. He shaved his hair off before he came out here, and he looks even more beautiful than before, if it’s possible. The lines of his cheekbones and jaw are so clear. His big dark eyes are open, staring into space. Just thinking, listening. No one can listen like John. 

“What’s she doing?”you ask, watching him.

“I’m pretty sure I heard her fucking last night.”

You giggle, he sounds completely serious.

“But now?”

John smiles, and it’s everything. You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. He just lies still, so peaceful. 

“I think she’s sad.”

“Why?”

“She’s missing someone.”

“Hmm.” 

You want to touch him so bad, but sometimes with him, it’s like breaking a spell. You’re happy just staying here, watching him. John’s been alone in this room for the past three days, they said - nothing but his guitars, cigarettes and a basket of oranges he asked for. There’s orange peel everywhere. When he called you, you were already in bed. But you came, like always. He gets lonely.

“I think her lover pushed her off the balcony in here, or something.” He just says it like it’s a fact; he’s not scared, or whatever. He’s quiet for a moment. “You think that’s romantic?”

“Not… exactly.”

“Really? I think it’s kind of beautiful.”

You don’t answer. He’s just a kid.He says shit like that sometimes.

“I think I felt her yesterday,” he says, thoughtful. “I woke up and I knew there was someone here with me. And it was like, I could pick up my guitar and all these colors were flowing right through me, just so fucking bright. Right into the strings. I wrote like, four songs. I think I wrote them down somewhere. I gotta play them to somebody. Maybe I’ll get out tomorrow. I think they’re good.” 

His eyes are bright with the excitement now, and he finally looks at you. 

“They’re here to help us, y’know? You can’t be afraid of them. Like, if they were evil, you’d know... But I don’t feel that. She’s looking out for me. I know it.”

The long white drapes in the balcony doors flutter in a sudden, merciful breeze. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You don’t know if it’s the cool air, or the things John’s saying. But somehow you feel safe, with him. 

As you’re thinking it he pulls you in to kiss you. His lips are so full and soft. He tastes of oranges. His touch is so sure, smoothing the goosebumps on your skin. After, you lie tangled up in the blankets, listening to his heartbeat.

“I wish we could just stay in here forever,” he says. “I feel like I can breathe here.”

You don’t remind him of what’s coming; the press, the endless buses and planes and hotel rooms, the screaming crowds, everybody wanting some of him. Maybe he’ll handle it, maybe he won’t. 

You know he’ll probably lose your number soon. And all you’ll remember is nights like this: heat and darkness, talk of ghosts. How beautiful John is, right now. None of it can last.


End file.
